


A Burned Heart Still Beats

by qvvro



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qvvro/pseuds/qvvro
Summary: Lio is dealing with the aftermath of losing a huge part of his identity, the Promare, but Galo helps to ease the pain and reminds him that he's still himself. Takes place 6 months after the events of the movie.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 13
Kudos: 81





	A Burned Heart Still Beats

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first naughty fanfic i've ever posted publicly. enjoy

He touched the stove again. It’d been six months, but he still couldn’t manage to understand that he had to use the knob to turn up the heat — he could no longer just summon it from his hands, it would no longer combust on instinct. Every single time, when the gas fire burned him, too, he felt a wild rush of emotions — sadness, hatred, disappointment, relief, joy, adrenaline. But nothing ever came out of it except another bandaid on another finger. With the most recent touch, he’d made it to 11.

He never expected to end up a line chef at a fancy restaurant in Promepolis, serving the same people who once hated and scorned him and the other Burnish. But when they were no longer on the run and trying to hide, when there were no messages to send by blowing up Foresight Pharmaceutical buildings… the Burnish had to find jobs to live; they had to integrate into society, which was all they wanted since the beginning. And that even included Lio, the  _ Big Boss _ . And he didn’t  _ hate _ it — he just hated when people sent the food back because it was burned. Overcooked. Too hot. He was still trying to figure out how normal people’s tongues were so sensitive while he struggled to get anything hot enough to satisfy him. If he wasn’t careful, they’d figure out exactly who he was — or, at least,  _ had been _ — and he’d get kicked to the curb. 

It was made illegal to ask someone’s Burnish status in job applications nearly a week after the Promare left the earth — but that didn’t mean people couldn’t figure it out just with context clues. It also didn’t mean all Burnish chose to abide, and return to life as normal humans — there were still those who ran, and hid, and sent messages through burning buildings, and denied the re-integration that was offered as soon as they could no longer self-combust. Sometimes Lio thought about joining them. A part of him missed the thrill of being chased. Blowing shit up. He didn’t need Promare in his hands to be able to commit arson, after all. But he would never admit it. He’d fought so hard for everyone else to be able to live normal, safe, satisfying lives, and he wanted to be a good example of “I wanted that all along, too.” Because it was true. Even if there was that part inside him that yearned to see flames lick his hands again.

He hovered a bare palm over the gas stovehead again, feeling the heat. That just had to be enough.

When the restaurant finally closed, it was almost midnight, and Lio was grateful to be able to pull his hair out of the short ponytail at the nape of his neck, though the strands mostly kept their clumped shape due to all the sweat. He said goodbye to the line lead and co-workers, and they asked if he wanted to join them for a drink, but he just smiled politely and shook his head no. He just wanted to be… somewhere else. He’d ended the night with a total of 13 bandaids on his fingers, and another two on his wrist. For some reason, he just couldn’t seem to get it together.

When did he become so incapable of… controlling his own emotions? If he was still connected with the Promare, they would have ripped his body apart already. He would have filled that kitchen with flames. He used to be able to control himself perfectly. His movements. His instincts. His impulses. His  _ feelings _ . It used to be a bare-minimum requirement in order to control the flames in his body — he was so practiced that he was respected for it. When did all of that go out the window? He stared down at the bandages on his fingers, his wrist, all of the places where he was careless and stupid. Clenching his hands, the strips of plastic strained and cut into the creases between his fingers, the injured skin aching terribly. Frustrated, hot tears filled the back of his eyes — but he took off running instead, hoping to outrace the emotions. Maybe if he just ran fast enough, he could escape and maintain his composure. It’d worked every other time.

He didn’t trust the trains that ran at night, so it wasn’t unusual for him to crash on Galo’s couch a mile away when he worked late. He normally even had a key — and sometimes it was the only key, because Galo’s head wasn’t fully attached to his shoulders and he lost the real one all the time. More than once the ash-covered, dirty, sweat-smelling man would walk his half-naked ass into the lobby of the 5-star restaurant, asking for one of the line cooks in the back, asking if he could borrow the spare key because he  _ really needed to take a shower _ . It embarrassed the hell out of Lio every time — until he saw the faces of the rich, haughty patrons, and how offended they were at the sight of a dirty working-class man, and then Lio wished Galo would stay even longer and continue to piss them off.

He always walked past the Burning Rescue hub on the way, sometimes even stopping in to say hello to whoever was on the night shift — but in the previous few months, the hours of operation BR committed to dwindled more and more, until they didn’t even  _ need _ a night shift. Maybe that was just a natural evolution when the Burnish — well, who was Lio kidding, when  _ he _ and  _ Mad Burnish _ weren’t out blowing stuff up. The cut hours understandably made Galo antsy, not having as much to do in the day-today, forcing him to take up new hobbies like obsessively working out or practicing his mechanical skills, or, even once, thinking about learning the drums. Until the re-integration of the Burnish back into society, he wasn’t used to spending more than a day in his apartment every week. He used to sleep, eat, shit in the BR hub, as if it was his real home, and his apartment was just where he kept all of his things.

Still, even walking past the dark BR building was comforting — a reminder of the past. Of what used to be. Every time, it reminded Lio of the first night he and Galo met —  _ met _ being a word used loosely. He still smirked when he thought about how easily Galo’s Matoi was torn to shreds and he was left prone, shirtless, annoyed on his back… and that was definitely the end of the fight, as far as Lio was concerned.

That night, walking past Burning Rescue, though, there was a light on inside. Far in the back, probably someone who didn’t want to be noticed. But Lio noticed. Maybe it was Lucia working on another mad tech invention. Maybe it was Aina fixing up her ship. Maybe it was…

“Galo,” Lio whispered to himself, unable to resist, sneaking around the back and punching the lock code into the back door. The code was the last four numbers of the team’s favorite pizzeria’s phone number, and every time Lio put it in, he thought about his first taste of that miserable Inferno Volcano Margherita Galo was obsessed with. He’d been so  _ sure _ that Lio would love it because, as he put it, “ _ you’re kind of an inferno volcano  _ person _ , Lio,” _ and when Lio finally took a bite, he didn’t have the heart to tell the blue-haired puppy across from him that it was just… pizza.

Stepping inside, it was warm compared to the chilly night air, and Lio released a sigh of relief, pulling off his leather jacket and following the walls until he could turn and face where the light was coming from. His boots clacked gently against the concrete floor, and his eyes scanned across the huge firetruck parked in its place, the motorcycles lined up in a row against the opposite wall, something that looked like a metallic body in pieces on the other side of the garage that with a sign that said “HANDS OFF ~LUCIA ONLY~ ღღღ”

Smiling to himself, he made his way back toward the workroom — but before he could get too far, a loud, painfully familiar sound came from the belly of the firetruck. Had it been anyone else standing there, they might have thought the truck was coming alive, a dragon inside attempting to escape — but Lio knew. He heaved a sharp breath, rolling his eyes and making his way to the truck instead, grabbing the support bar on the outside and heaving himself up inside. Sure enough, curled up asleep and  _ snoring _ on the main interior walkway, a blue-haired puppy. He was covered in grease and smelled like polishing oil, and Lio  _ knew _ he’d stayed late to fawn over his Matoi or some other plaything Lucia had cooked up for him. He wasn’t able to use his mecha toys as much anymore, what with the enemy number-one Big Burnish Boss having retired, but he still cared for them like a mother hen might tend to her baby chicks.

“Dumbass,” Lio whispered, shaking his head and stepping forward to kick the bottom of Galo’s boot. Galo had the only key to the apartment at that moment, which meant if Lio had chosen to go there first, he would have been SOL. It was a miracle he’d decided to snoop around BR instead. Louder, he said: “ _ Galo _ . Galo, wake up! I’m exhausted and would prefer something  _ soft  _ to sleep on. I want to go home.”

“I’m not leaving... Until the update is done,” Galo muttered, and Lio could see drool on the rolled-up fire jacket his head was lying on. Lio wrinkled his nose, but spotted the  _ loading _ bar on one of Lucia’s console monitors. It was only at 10%, with no clear progression.

“Can’t you just come back in the morning?” Lio sighed, practically begging. “I’m tired, Galo, please — you have the only key. I just want to  _ sleep.” _

“It’ll be done soon,” Galo promised, licking drool from his lips. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, and Lio wondered how awake he actually even was. Would he remember this conversation later? Defeated, Lio collapsed into one of Lucia’s chairs, folding his arms over the console and resting his head down. His feet ached. His back hurt. His neck was strained from leaning over rich assholes’ plates all night. Maybe he should quit. Maybe he should move to an apartment that was closer, instead of on the other side of the city. Maybe he should go back to burning down buildings and wreaking havoc and sewing fear…

“You burned yourself again,” Galo’s voice spoke up again, and Lio tilted his head to look down at the floor at him. Galo’s eyes were cracked open that time, looking at Lio with concern. Lio frowned, curling his fingers into his crossed arms to hide them.

“Just accidentally,” Lio muttered. “It’s fine.”

But Galo was already sitting up. Lio tried to ignore him, hoping Galo was instead going to do some magic on Lucia’s computer to make the update go faster, but those hopes were quashed when Galo’s fingers reached into his nest of crossed arms and pulled one of his hands out.

“Five more? Sounds like a bad night,” he commented. Lio wrinkled his nose, pulling his hand away.

“What makes you say five?” he asked. Galo looked away with an awkward smile.

“I’ve... been keeping track,” he admitted, looking embarrassed. “You only had seven when you left my apartment on Sunday. But you came in with 8 on Saturday night, which means at least one was feeling better, right?”

Something about that — Lio hated it being so obvious. His face was hot, and he was sure he was blushing, but it was mostly out of annoyance. Definitely.

“It’s none of your business,” he attempted, pulling his hand back into his arms and closing it into a tight fist. He turned his head away and laid it back down again, wanting the conversation to be over. It was embarrassing enough, damnit, he didn’t need a full history of how many times he’d forgotten the fire would bite him if he touched it. Fire that used to be his closest confidant, used to be  _ a part of him _ . He didn’t need to be reminded.

Galo released a breath like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, and it was probably for the better. Lio just squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to fall asleep, at least until the sun came up and he could go back to his own apartment. Behind him, Galo was getting to his feet, but Lio ignored him. He was rummaging around in one of the metal compartments, but Lio ignored him. He was walking back — and then Galo was standing behind him, gently reaching into his folded arms to pull one of his hands out. Lio straightened up, prepared to snap at him again— but he stopped, finding a roll of gauze and a tube of first-aid ointment on the console next to him. Galo settled down on the edge of the counter, next, shaking his head and squeezing Lio’s hand.

“It must hurt,” he whispered, and then proceeded to peel the first bandaid from Lio’s middle finger. And then the next, and then he was peeling every bandage away to reveal the constellations of burnt, bruised, swollen, raised red skin. Lio looked away, flushing with embarrassment again. When the bandaids were gone, Galo rested Lio’s hand against his strong thigh, and worked to soak the gauze bandages with the ointment, proceeding to rub them up and down Lio’s slender fingers. Lio couldn’t help but shudder in relief as an icy balm spread across the aching parts of his hands, resting his head on his shoulder as Galo cleaned and massaged the skin.

“I’m familiar with this stuff — but they usually have to use gallons of it on me,” Galo laughed, as Lio’s eyes flickered to the sleeve on Galo’s arm that shielded his own burn-scars from the eyes of strangers on the street. He pulled his eyes away again quickly.

“You run headfirst into fire too often,” Lio muttered, “So it’s no wonder…”

“You’re one to talk, Big Boss,” was Galo’s reply. Lio smirked, but still kept his eyes averted. Silence hung between them as Galo worked, until he spoke again in a whisper.

“Are you in pain?” he asked. His voice made it sound like he wasn’t sure why he was asking, or maybe he was embarrassed to ask, but Lio just shook his head.

“It feels better, now,” he was willing to admit, but Galo frowned, shaking his head.

“I don’t mean your hands, Boss…”

Lio’s chest tightened, and then he felt like he couldn’t quite breathe. He narrowed his eyes, looking away again with a frown. He wasn’t about to answer that, especially not to an idiot like Galo. But apparently, Galo wasn’t going to let it go.

“I know you have nightmares,” he whispered. “You think I don’t know, but I know. You talk a lot in your sleep. I can hear you all the way in my room.”

“I don’t…” Lio shook his head. He wanted to tell Galo to  _ shut up _ , he didn’t want to hear it, but Galo just kept talking.

“You can talk to me, Lio,” Galo continued, cinching his eyebrows. He paused to take Lio’s opposite hand, working to pull off the bandages there, too. “We’re friends. You can talk to me.”

Wrong. Galo was wrong. Galo wouldn’t understand — he got everything out of disconnecting the Earth from the Promare, everything he and everyone else wanted, which was to rid of the Burnish and the fires and the people getting hurt. He lost his hero; Kray Foresight ended up being the villain, but he — what did he  _ lose _ ? Lio snatched his hand away, jaw going tight as he glared at him. He wanted to say something. He wanted to tell Galo off, tell him he was an idiot, that he had no idea what he was saying — but then Galo smiled at him, and Lio felt his chin quiver. He bit back the emotion again. He offered his hand back, and Galo went back to work pulling off the final few bandaids and then massaging the cooling gel across his skin.

“I don’t know…” Lio attempted to speak, but it lodged in his throat like vomit. Like if he finally spoke it out loud, it would become real. “... who I’m supposed to be, anymore.”

“ _ Be _ ?” Galo asked after a moment. “You’re Lio.”

“That’s not…” Lio started, but stopped, shaking his head and laughing sharply at himself in exasperation. That was why he never felt like talking about it. Galo just… wouldn’t get it.

“What do you need, Lio?” Galo insisted. He sounded so genuine, and it made Lio’s insides twist even tighter, annoyance swelling in his chest. Instead of answering, he grabbed Galo’s stupid, beautiful face and squeezed his cheeks.

“I need you to go home with me,” Lio begged under his breath. “My feet hurt from cooking shitty food for shitty people all day and I just want to  _ lay down _ !”

Galo’s eyes turned to his update. 11%. Lio felt himself explode internally, jumping to his feet and snatching his hand away. He grabbed his jacket off the back of Lucia’s chair, attempting to storm past Galo.

“Forget it! I’ll just take the train!”

But Galo put his arms out, effectively trapping Lio against the console. He smiled the whole time like it was a game, and that only infuriated Lio more. He attempted to push Galo directly, but he was too strong. Swearing at him, he commanded Galo to step back, to let him pass — but instead of doing any of that, Galo lunged and wrapped his arms around Lio’s body, pinning his arms to his sides and lifting him off the floor as if he weighed nothing.

“Just lay down here with me!” Galo invited, maneuvering the thrashing Lio around the chair and into the walkway. “It’s more comfortable than you think — the metal floor is cold, and it’s dark, and quiet, and…”

“Put me down, you idiot!” Lio commanded. “I don’t want to lay on the dirty floor with you! Just give me the key to your place — or I’ll just take the train, or —!”

“Just stay with me,” Galo breathed, and Lio glared at him, hoping Galo would get the hint — but when he didn’t, Lio just sighed in defeat, knowing he would never be able to overpower Galo’s big arms. “I have to make sure you take care of your hands. You won’t burn yourself again if you have a firefighter here with you.”

“Why does it even matter?” Lio begged as Galo dropped him next to where he’d originally been lying on the floor, pulling him down next to him. Lio surrendered enough to sit on his knees, Galo spreading out like a big bear in his cave. He squeezed his hands into fists again, gritting his teeth. “Maybe I like burning myself.”

“Those were exactly the words you shouldn’t have said to a firefighter,” Galo scooped Lio in his arms, pulling him down across his chest and pinning him there. But Lio wasn’t fighting back anymore, staring at the ceiling, already making escape plans for the moment Galo’s snoring started up again. “You’re not leaving my sight, Lio Fotia.”

“You mean, ever?” Lio groaned.

“Not until you stop burning yourself.”

Galo sounded so pleased with himself. Lio still wouldn’t look at him. Galo was waiting for Lio to argue, or fight back, or something — it was obvious, because he stopped to wait for a reply. Lio pressed his lips together.

“It used to not burn me,” Lio whispered. “It used to… comfort me.”

Lio felt how Galo exhaled, as if it was all suddenly hitting him, crushing him, the realization of exactly what was happening. And Lio wanted to jump out of his skin for letting the truth loose.

“ _ Oh, _ ” Galo whispered. More silence hovered, and Lio wondered if that would be a good time to get up and leave without another word — but then Galo’s arms wrapped tightly around him again. Not to pin him, not to hold him down — it was an embrace. He pulled Lio in close, hand on the back of his head, tucking him into the curve of his shoulder — and Lio melted in an instant. Galo’s skin was so hot, warm, like the fire Lio used to love. He smelled like grease and oil and gasoline and smoke, everything that Lio used to love. He was a big, giant idiot — but he was  _ gentle _ .

“Your fire is still in you,” Galo promised, and Lio shuddered, shaking his head. “I mean it. I made sure of it. Don’t you remember? I put it back into you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Lio muttered, feeling like a child, but Galo’s arm shifted beneath him, and then one of his calloused hands was reaching to draw a circle on Lio’s chest.

“Right here,” he insisted. “I placed it right here.”

“Galo, please…”

“I know what your flame sounds like,” Galo continued. “It protected me, too, Lio — I was comforted by it, too. We became friends. And I can hear it still inside of you.”

Lio didn’t want to hear it anymore. He sat up — but Galo put his hand on his arm, his expression a mix of uncertainty and… worry. Biting his lip, Lio laid back down again, nestling once more against Galo’s chest.

“What does it sound like?” he asked, not for himself, more for Galo. He seemed so convinced — and he was trying so hard to make Lio feel better. Even if it was all so stupid, even if it was all just wishful thinking… Lio liked the sound of Galo’s voice.

“Like… singing around a campfire,” was Galo’s answer. Lio smiled.

“That’s very creative. My Promare, sounding like a  _ campfire _ ? Wow.”

Galo laughed, squeezing his arms tighter around Lio.

“Maybe it’s different for everyone — you wouldn’t know. Don’t question me.”

“What does it feel like?” he went on, touching his fingers to his chest, pretending for just a second that Galo was telling the truth, that maybe there still was a tiny spark buried in there behind his heart. Galo’s hand reached up to meet his, pressing more firmly into his sternum.

“It beats like your heart does,” he answered. “It’s… nice.”

“How do you know I have a heart at all?” Lio went on. “Maybe my flames devoured it a long time ago. People used to say so about the Burnish.”

“Even if that were the case, I wouldn’t care,” Galo smiled. “But there’s no way you don’t have a heart. You gave up the one thing that defined you — to promise a better life for everyone else who was suffering. A heartless person would never do that. Gov Kray never did that.”

Lio’s heart — if that’s what it really was —  _ fluttered. _ He sat up. He stared down at Galo, who was just smiling gently back at him. What was he saying? What the hell was he saying? And why did it make Lio feel so…?

He couldn’t stop himself. He leaned forward, slipping a hand behind Galo’s head and pressing their lips together. It was the first time since the  _ first _ time — but something Lio had always wanted to reexperience. Something Lio missed. Something he wanted to do again to see if it ignited him just as much as the first time.

It did.

Pulling away again, he smiled, shaking his head.

“You’re so stupid,” he told Galo. Galo smiled, too, eyes sparkling. Clearly he didn’t mind, either. Instead of saying anything else, Galo’s hands reached up behind Lio’s shoulders, pulling him back down again, kissing him again, igniting Lio again. Lio adjusted his body to stretch across Galo’s chest, putting himself at an easier angle, wanting easy access to the firefighter’s hot mouth, craving more and more how it moved against his. How it sparked the flames he’d been craving in his chest, his stomach, even between his legs. It was invigorating — how had he gone so long without it? How cruel of the universe to keep from him that he’d be able to sense his flames once more the moment he and Galo kissed again? Maybe Galo was right — it was he who reimplanted the life-saving fire into Lio’s mouth. It made sense that when they touched again, in the same place, that same flame would burst back to life.

“ _ Galo _ ,” he whispered his name, breathless, in the short moment they pulled apart. “ _ Galo, Galo… _ ”

“ _ Come back _ ,” Galo beckoned in response, pulling Lio back into him again, kissing him hungrily, passionately, mouth moving from Lio’s and down his chin, under his jaw, his neck. He tugged at the collar of Lio’s t-shirt that had the name of the restaurant embroidered on the front, desperate to kiss his collarbones, to kiss the hidden skin further underneath.

“W — Wait,” Lio breathed, and Galo removed his mouth, his hands, in an instant. Lio sat back, staring down at him, feeling a bead of anxious sweat drip down his back. Galo’s cheeks were flushed with blood. His eyes were excited, but his expression was held back, like he was afraid he’d gone too far. Lio let out a deep breath, hot and fiery. His heart wouldn’t stop racing. Finally, he smiled to himself after catching his breath, sitting forward and pressing his thumb against Galo’s bottom lip, and then requesting more. Pressing his lips against Galo’s again, he allowed himself to sink into the heat of his body, summoning more, begging for more.

“Take my shirt off,” he commanded in a whisper, and Galo’s hands slithered down his sides, into the waist of Lio’s pants to search for the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it up and revealing his naked chest. He threw it away, hands returning to Lio’s skin, rough and hard and  _ strong _ . It made Lio shudder in anticipation, not wasting any time in grabbing the bottom of Galo’s dirty, torn shirt, too, ripping it off over his head and making his hair staticky. He laughed, attempting to flatten it back down again as Galo’s hands made their way into Lio’s hair to mess it up in retribution. Lio attempted to fight them off, losing his balance, Galo turning Lio on his back and gaining the upper hand in Lio’s moment of giggling weakness.

Galo’s body was heavy. It crushed Lio — but in an addictive way. Something about being pinned made his body feel even hotter. Galo’s mouth pressed hard into his, Lio’s hands tangling up into Galo’s blue mohawk, illuminated only by Lucia’s screens on the console as Galo’s hands worked over the button and zipper of Lio’s black jeans, tugging them down, tearing the hole in the knee open even wider. He apologized between their moving mouths, Lio pulling away and laughing again, their arms knotting up as he fought for the clasp on Galo’s pants, too. Finally, Galo swatted his hands away, undoing his pants, himself, as Lio watched with a wanton smile.

“Is this OK?” Galo asked before pulling his pants off entirely, that expression of holding himself back returning to his face. “I don’t want you to feel like —”

“It’s OK! Just take your fucking pants off!” Lio commanded, grabbing the back of Galo’s neck and pulling him down into another kiss. One of Galo’s arms strained to support his weight next to Lio’s head as the other arm fought to strip off his uniform pants, and Lio revealed in the sensation of Galo’s strong muscle shuddering in the effort.

Galo wore boxers with little flames on them — which just made Lio laugh harder, choking when Galo’s mouth found the sensitive spot of skin right below his belly button. Inhaling sharply, heat raced to pool in the same area as if Galo’s mouth summoned it, squirming when the waistband of his black boxer briefs was tugged down next, and then there was breath between his legs that made him gasp.

“Y — You’re teasing me,” he accused, and Galo’s breath moved as he laughed, followed by the searing heat of his mouth touching the base of Lio’s cock. “You’re — the last person I’d expect to — take your time…”

“Your face...” Galo chuckled, and Lio bit back a sigh as Galo’s tongue crept up his length to the tip, back arching slightly as the more heat rushed to meet Galo’s mouth. “I’m taking my time committing it to memory.”

“Idiot —!” Lio groaned, clutching Galo’s wrist that was pressed against his hip bone, “If you keep taking your time — I’ll —  _ ah — _ !” he cried as Galo’s mouth slipped down over him, jerking his hips in response, burying his nails into Galo’s arm as his stomach twisted and danced with exhilaration. The rush of emotion was overwhelming, filling him to the brim with pleasure. “Oh —  _ Galo! _ ”

Galo slipped his mouth down Lio’s entire length, pressing his nose into the base of Lio’s stomach, and Lio could barely stand it. His hips moved against the heat, one of Galo’s hands twisting up under Lio’s leg to hold him down, refusing him the chance to thrust. He pulled up, tongue dancing on the tip, and then back down again, and Lio threw his head back, biting down on his lip, suffocating the pleasured moans that coaxed the back of his throat. He buried his fingers into Galo’s long hair, breath hitching with every push and pull, gasping when Galo’s tongue teased the tip of his cock again. Fire swelled between his legs — it’d been so long since anyone had touched him the way Galo did, it’d been so long since he’d  _ allowed anyone to _ , and Galo seemed to know exactly all the places that Lio needed to be set alight.

Galo’s hands gripped his hip bones, thumbs burying into the soft flesh as his mouth continued to tease, Lio’s stomach muscles clenching with every rush of gratification until he was on the edge of breaking — and he gulped, sucking in breath, voice weak.

“ _ Don’t  _ — no, I don’t want to, yet —”

“Are you sure?” Galo whispered with a coy smile, but Lio grabbed his hair and pulled him away, falling back again with heaving breaths. He didn’t want it to be over. Not yet. If it ended too soon, Lio wouldn’t have burned enough. He wanted to embrace the fire of Galo’s hands and mouth for as long as he possibly could. He wanted to burn  _ more.  _ Burn  _ hotter _ . Clutching Galo’s hair, he coaxed him back on top, pulling his mouth down to connect with his again. His opposite hand reached down between them, searching for Galo’s boxers and slipping his hand inside to find his own girth, smiling when Galo’s breath shuddered on contact.

“Your hand is so warm,” Galo breathed against Lio’s lips. “Are you sure you can’t make fire?”

Lio smiled, kissing him again, stroking up and down Galo’s length as he did. He circled his thumb gently against the head of Galo’s cock, giggling when he had to pull away and gasp. His whole body shook, and soon his arms gave out, collapsing fully on top of Lio and nearly knocking the breath out of him.

“Light me up, Lio,” he begged, kissing and biting the side of Lio’s neck, below his ear. “Set me on fire, just like before.”

“Be careful what you ask for,” Lio breathed, sitting up and throwing Galo on his back again. He pulled down Galo’s boxers, meeting Galo’s eyes as he lowered himself down and licked the tip of his cock, chuckling when Galo dramatically threw his head back with a moan. “I never expected a firefighter to want to be set on fire…”

“By you,” Galo sighed, “Only by you.”

That was invitation enough for Lio, kissing and licking up the length of Galo’s cock, loving the sounds he made. He was so much less reserved than Lio tried to be — he practically hollered with every touch, and while at first it made Lio laugh, soon it made him hungry for more, more, more. How else could he get this strong, calloused firefighter to whimper?

Licking two of his fingers, he gently prodded at the tender bud beneath Galo’s length, exhaling when Galo nearly choked — and then whispered  _ yes, Lio _ . 

“Can I?” he asked, mostly teasing. Galo shuddered beneath him, and then arched his neck back.

“God, yes — here,” Galo stretched his shaking arms across the way to one of the square lockers on the wall with the word  _ GAY-LO _ written on a piece of tape. Cranking it open, he knocked a handful of things over before finally tossing Lio a tiny bottle of lube, Lio holding it up in disbelief.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Why do you have this in here?”

“You never know,” Galo smirked, but couldn’t lift his head any longer, collapsing back against the floor with a heaving sigh. “It doesn’t matter — god, just fuck me, Lio, please.”

Lio poured a pool of lube into the palm of his hand, smiling to himself and lowering one more time to slide as much of Galo into his throat as he could, slippery fingers coaxing their way fully into Galo’s hole. Feeling how he tensed, watching his ab muscles through half-lidded eyes clench and ripple, more fire gathered between Lio’s legs, too. He wanted to touch every inch of him. He wanted to set every inch of Galo’s skin on fire, just like he once was able to. He wanted to burn this firefighter alive, just like he asked for.

Lio’s fingers were long and slender, and he smirked every time Galo asked for  _ more, _ until soon there were four inside of him. Feeling how his body rippled with every thrust of Lio’s hand, for a moment Lio thought maybe that would be enough — but the swirling energy between his legs told him otherwise. Even as he sucked, and licked, and tasted every inch of Galo’s length, it wasn’t enough. Is  _ that _ what he wanted? Is that what  _ Galo _ wanted? It was the first time they’d even touched each other like this — but Lio wanted to go  _ more _ and  _ more. _

“You asked me to fuck you,” he whispered, pushing his fingers as deep as he could into Galo, a corner of his mouth lifting as Galo seem to forget how to breathe. Galo’s legs shuddered, a hand reaching up to push dark blue hair from his face. The sight made Lio shiver, too. “Did you mean it?”

“ _ Yes, _ ” Galo whined, hand slipping down to touch the side of Lio’s leg. “ _ I want you to finally fuck me, Lio. _ ”

“Finally?” Lio teased, pouring more lube into his eager hand, slipping it up and down his own cock first, exhaling softly as electricity flourished in his hips again. He used the remainder to glide his hand up and down Galo’s length, Galo’s fingers curling into the metal grating of the walkway underneath him. He just kept muttering  _ yes _ and  _ please _ .

“When did you first want me?” Lio asked, and Galo threw his head back in despair, as if being teased was akin to torture. For Lio, it was payback.  _ Your face… I’m taking my time committing it to memory. _

“My brain is nothing but mush right now —” Galo attempted to get out of answering. Lio slid his fingers up and down Galo’s cock again, smiling when he trembled.

“Tell me,” he coerced. Galo gulped.

“That first night you stayed at my place — after work. We had drinks, remember?”

Lio would never forget. Pasta and wine and a little bit of whiskey. Lio got so drunk he almost kissed Galo first — but Galo insisted they shouldn’t, not until Lio was sober again, and then he poured Lio’s drunk ass on the couch and Lio slept for 12 hours. That had been only a week after the Promare left — and during that week, Lio thought about nothing except Galo the entire time. Galo. Galo. Galo. It was the only thing to keep him from thinking about  _ everything else _ . Galo was safe. And warm. And friendly. And  _ fun _ . And  _ hot. _ His hand slid up Galo’s cock again, teasing the tip. Just thinking about how badly Lio had wanted him that night, it made him want Galo even more in that moment.

“Is it worth it?” he asked. “Waiting for me?”

“I would have waited forever,” Galo promised. Lio almost rolled his eyes. He should have known Galo would be a sap even when on his back.

Touching his tip against Galo’s rim, Lio pushed himself slowly inside, exhaling when his hips met the back of Galo’s legs. Galo moaned as Lio entered him, a gentle sound that made all the hairs on the back of Lio’s neck stand up.

Galo was tight and warm, and Lio’s heart raced as soon as he was inside of him, leaning forward over Galo’s stomach and enjoying the feeling for just a moment. Sweat dripped from his forehead in the heat of the firetruck, turning his eyes down to find that he’d released a few drops onto Galo’s abs. He reached down to wipe them away, immediately distracted at how rock-hard his stomach muscles were. How thrilling, how addictive, the thought of making someone as strong as Galo beg.

But it was more than that — for the first time in months, the first time since he gave away the Promare flames that defined him, Lio felt that familiar burning in his chest. It wasn’t the Promare’s fire — it was… joy. It was excitement. It was elation. This idiot Galo, with his burning firefighter soul, was setting Lio on fire again, without the use of any flames at all. Just with his stupid smile, his dumb ego, his rock-hard abs, his kind words. Lio was overcome with so many emotions, feelings he hadn’t felt in such a long time — and they were all summoned by Galo’s tongue, in more ways than one. He hoped Galo would feel the same when he was done with him.

Pulling back, Lio thrust himself deeper inside, and Galo moaned, arching his back. Again and again, Lio pulled back and pushed back in, breathing deeply, just watching Galo’s face, his abs, his arms, his legs. Galo’s expression shifted between overwhelm and deep sighs of pleasure, head turned and flushed with blood and releasing sharp breaths of air with every thrust. It made Lio’s heart skip.

“ _ Oh, Lio _ ,” he exhaled with a shaky voice, cracking his eyes open, reaching up to touch Lio’s face. Lio took his hand, pressing his lips into Galo’s palm, and then guided it down between Galo’s legs.

“I want to watch,” he coerced, and Galo’s hand wrapped around his own cock, sliding up and down as Lio fucked him, one leg perched on Lio’s narrow shoulder, the other bent around his hips. Sweat continued to drip from Lio’s forehead and neck and chest across Galo’s stomach, the air growing thick and hot. Lio couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the inside of Galo’s leg between thrusts, tasting salty sweat on the skin and licking his lips.

He sensed when Galo was reaching his breaking point, tightening around Lio’s length, stomach muscles clenching and showing their definition — but Lio grabbed Galo’s hand around his cock last second so he wouldn’t cum just yet. Galo whined in defiance, Lio smiling to himself, Galo’s shaking hand wrapping around Lio’s forearm as he begged Lio fuck him harder. Lio obeyed, thrusting more aggressively, eliciting a sharp noise from Galo every time, with every slam of Lio’s hips against the back of his legs.

“ _ Oh, yes, Lio — yes! Oh, fuck!”  _ Galo cried, Lio’s own hand slipping back between Galo’s legs to tease his cock and jerk him off, feeling as Galo’s body tensed and he came with a sharp moan, spilling across Lio’s chest, a few drops casting across the bottom half of his face. Lio hastened his own tempo, bracing himself back over Galo’s stomach as he buried himself again and again between Galo’s legs, feeling the heat build up and up until he released inside of him with a shudder and a gasp, Galo’s hand reaching out to support him by the shoulder when he almost collapsed.

Heaving with breath, Lio pressed his forehead against Galo’s chest as he fought to refill his lungs, finally sitting back again to cast his eyes across Galo’s face. Galo was watching him, wearing a tired smile, face red and flushed with sweat. Lio smiled, too, lifting a hand to the flecks of Galo’s cum on his cheek, wiping it away with a thumb and slipping it into his mouth with a flirtatious smile.

“Oh,  _ god! _ ” Galo collapsed backward, and Lio laughed, sitting forward again to gently pull out, Galo’s body trembling as he did. “Oh, god,” Galo muttered again, voice breathy, beckoning for Lio to join him on the floor. Lio’s arms and legs shook from the effort, and he knew he didn’t have much of a choice. He collapsed on the metal walkway next to Galo, resting his head on his shoulder, hair clinging to the dampness on his forehead. His heart pounded cracks into his ribcage, heat swirling and throbbing every one of his muscles. Every tension he’d been holding onto before that moment melted away entirely, chewed up by the heat of the truck and Galo’s body and how it felt to pin him.

“You’ve been lying to me,” Galo sighed. “I know it now.”

“Lying?” Lio asked.

“Yeah,” Galo pushed hair from his face, speaking with a tired voice, cracking his eyes open toward the ceiling. “You told me your flames were gone. But I definitely felt them. I could hear them, just like I said.”

Galo’s arm tightened around Lio again, pressing his nose into the side of Lio’s neck.

“It’s still there,” he whispered. “It’s still there, Lio. I promise.”

Maybe Galo was right. Lio thought he would never know again how the flames used to make him feel — but maybe it wasn’t the flames at all. Maybe it was the joy that came with them. Maybe Lio didn’t need the Promare to feel… happy.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he woke up to the sound of a musical chime coming from the console. Cracking his eyes open, he squinted at the screen illuminating the inside of the truck, seeing Galo’s update at 100%. That meant they could finally go home, and Lio could finally get some sleep on the couch…

But instead of waking Galo up, he turned back into the warm bear he was nestled into, and closed his eyes again. It was the best sleep he’d gotten in a long time.


End file.
